


This Time Imperfect

by sephmeadowes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sephmeadowes/pseuds/sephmeadowes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all have their destinies to fulfill. And even she has one as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written around the second season of Merlin so Mordred' personality and history divers from the canon of the show.

_To see a world in a grain of sand_   
_And a heaven in a wild flower_   
_Hold infinity in the palm of your hand_   
_And eternity in an hour_

**\- William Blake, Auguries of Innocence**

* * *

She is known to be the brightest witch of her age and so when she finishes her education she goes to try and change the Wizarding world for the better.

She is nineteen and fresh out of school but being a war veteran gives her more than enough privilege. She pours her time on work at the Ministry of Magic, researching complex spells and reading dark texts hidden deep within the secret vaults.

She studies magic both light and dark, not caring for the consequences because all great changes didn't always mean pure methods. Her morals are out of the question.

It is late into the night, her desk surrounded by books on time travel and the golden dust of the time turner covering her hands before the world spins and she blacks out.

* * *

In this time of legends and magic when it was more in tune with nature, where men carry swords and women wear long dresses that float on the floors, she wakes in a castle where servants bow to her and call her "your highness", where she is a daughter of a king, the only heir to the throne and a pupil to the greatest wizard known in magical history.

She is Eirian Pendragon.

She is an imposter.

But with no way back, she plays the charade and bows down to her 'father', Merlin's watchful eyes on her.

* * *

She adjusts to life in the kingdom better than she expects.

There's not really much she can do aside from reading the books in the massive castle library and going for a ride in the woods. Arthur is very protective of her and she walks around with at least two male guards flanking her wherever she went.

But the king is kind and often greets her with a warm hug calling her "daughter" with affection and pride. She quickly warms up to the man.

She doesn't get to know her mother at all though, especially when the queen is often hiding in dark rooms with one of the king's knights.

Merlin teaches her on all sorts of subjects and she delights at his lighthearted personality and intelligence. She is more than impressed with him and she pleads one night for him to teach her about magic and although surprised, he obliges.

* * *

She becomes a captive when she's out horseback riding in the woods with her maid servant and they are ambushed.

The kingdom's enemies she knew and she glares in annoyance at the dark-haired male staring down at her with his piercing blue eyes.

He mockingly bows and calls her "princess".

She only glares back.

He introduces himself.

"I'm Mordred."

She stifles her gasp.

* * *

She is a prisoner and as expected, King Arthur is livid with the kidnapping of his only child and places a bounty on Mordred's head the worth of England in gold.

She really wishes he didn't rise up to the bait. She likes the older man who she's really start to think of as a father but he tends to think quite predictably and she would worry endlessly for his sake if she doesn't know Merlin is there to keep the king from doing anything too brash.

She thinks on a sour note that her dear mother in this timeline was probably too busy gallivanting off with Lancelot to notice her disappearance.

She's living with the druids for over a week now and the scholar in her is intrigued by the Old Magic and ways of her Wizarding ancestors. But she could only be so fascinated when the price of it was being the prisoner of the insufferable Mordred with his constant pestering of her because he found it oh-so-amusing.

And then there was Morgana.

The beautiful dark-haired witch unnerved her with her staring and her cryptic words.

While around her everyone prepared for war, she only wanted to go home.

Problem was she didn't know where that was anymore.

* * *

Despite being held against her will, the druids were kind to her. Especially when they learn she was magical as well. Though she can't really do much without her wand and the small tricks she could do wandlessly only gains her a raised eyebrow from Mordred who thinks her spellwork amateurish.

She wants to hex him so badly he'd wake up in 1998 where she could start all over again.

But alas, wands were yet to be made in this time.

Mordred is an enigma if anything else.

In this world he isn't Arthur's son but he still harbors hatred against the man to want him dead and this worries her but she knows better than to interfere. Things are already as strange as they are and she doesn't want to risk messing with the timeline even more.

Mordred treats her as if she was an ignorant child and often mocks her in his sarcastic and cool tone but still he fascinates her in the oddest of ways. He's handsome, that was for sure, but what intrigued her was the intelligence that gleamed in his eyes, his determination in his goals and she (begrudgingly) admits it, she's only seen a very few people so magically powerful as him.

However, when it all came down it, he isn't a good man.

But that doesn't seem to matter to her anymore when he kisses her during one night of frivolous merriment in the camp. The men singing drunkenly as his lips taste hers, the tang of ale on his tongue and his hands buried in her hair.

* * *

Merlin arrives at the camp and manages not to be seen by anyone as he sneaks into her tent and wakes her up. She finds herself reluctant to come with him much to his confusion.

He tells her of what has been going on back at Camelot while she was gone.

Gwen and Lancelot have eloped.

Arthur prepares for battle.

Just like in the books.

And her heart aches as she remembers the end of this story.

Morgana enters the tent and tells Merlin to leave.

They all have their destinies to fulfill.

And even she has one as well.

* * *

She is in love.

With an egotistical, insufferable, smart-mouthed megalomaniac who is painted as the poster child for evil-little-boys-all-grown-up in history.

He certainly lives up to most of what she read about him.

But he also doesn't.

She didn't expect him to be able to love her, to be so gentle, so kind (when he wants to be).

She certainly didn't expect to fall in love with him in return.

But she is.

In love with him.

She welcomes him into her bed and he worships her body, whispering the most intoxicating and tender words in her ears.

" _Hermione."_

He whispers her name, her _real_ name and she cries.

* * *

She feels a pang of regret, sorrow and dread when the day of the confrontation between Arthur and Mordred arrives, the battle that will end in both their deaths.

She thinks it tragic she will lose two men she has come to love and if she didn't know any better, she would stop all this from happening. She's not that much of a fool though.

Mordred kisses her goodbye and she has to stop the tears from escaping, the sob stuck in her throat.

This is the last time he will ever see her she knew but that doesn't stop her from wishing for it all to be different.

His hand lingers on her stomach, staring almost wistfully at what could've been.

" _My son."_

He pushes something in her hand, small and wrapped in aged paper.

He tells her to run.

* * *

She hears news of their deaths from Merlin who, tired and looking much older than he really was, has just returned from the battlefield.

Mordred has succeeded. He killed a king.

And he struck at the most vulnerable part.

"Arthur truly loved you."

He broke Arthur's heart.

She could only sigh at the tragedy she is pulled into and she bids her old tutor farewell.

"Where are you going?"

She shrugs. "Somewhere."

There is nothing left there for her anymore.

* * *

She opens the parcel Mordred gave her the day he left and reads the note scribbled in his messy handwriting.

_Look for my father._

Her blood turns cold as she drops the familiar golden locket in her hands to the ground.

Her arms wrap around her middle in horror, feeling like she couldn't breathe as she realizes what she has done.

All the while the locket winks up at her almost menacingly, the symbol of Salazar Slytherin unmistakable.


End file.
